In the reeds of the stream

Since the autumn came
The marsh reeds have dried
The sun though colder
Has taken its toll
The reeds are turned brown
But like all things
There is beauty in the decay
Like a woman older in days
With skin wrinkled
But has exquisite grace
Or a child
Turned from toddler
And a toddler's tumult and rage
To near adult
The turn of years
Ripen the youth
Into bravery
Outside of the age
Of his body